I'm sitting in class, staring at the clock. Why is time crawling? I'm usually not this impatient, but today... that note from the library is messing with my head. My mind keeps tugging me toward it, like some invisible string pulling me to the library door.
It's Wednesday, and that means it's Hindi-speaking day. Ugh. Wednesday and Thursday both. Not that I mind—it's actually kind of fun.
The last period was supposed to be P.E. Supposed to be. But do we ever actually get to go outside when it's the last period? No. Instead, they cancel our time on the ground and force us to sit here and study. Because, apparently, we haven't studied enough already. Not that I do much on the field besides volleyball, but still... it's the principle of it.
I mean, yeah, I'm not interested in sports and all that, but come on—one hour of fresh air won't hurt anyone.
Everyone's talking and doing their own thing, and I'm half-listening, half-ignoring them. The boys are roaming around like a bunch of hyperactive monkeys, and my eyes suddenly land on Samarth near the window. Is he talking to someone? He bends forward, peeking out, like he's trying to sneak a look at... who?
Why do I even care? It's his business, right?
Except... I do care. For some reason, my curiosity is piqued, and I lean a little to get a better look. And then I spot him—Rehaan. His tie is all loose, his hair a complete mess, hanging over his forehead like he's just come out of a windstorm. What does he even do all day to end up looking like that by the end of class?
His hair's swaying lightly, and he's not wearing his red blazer. Of course. Who needs a uniform when you're Rehaan, head boy and all? He's talking to Samarth, and suddenly, his eyes land on me. Oh no. Please, no.
I gulp. Don't panic, Saher. Act natural. But my heart starts thumping like I've just run a race. Stop staring, stop staring!
He says something to Samarth—something like "side hatt"—and then he's looking right at me. Directly. His eyes lock onto mine, and I feel a strange mix of annoyance and... something else. He straightens up, turns away, and... nothing. He just ignores me. Like I'm not even there.
Idiot.
I shake my head, trying to focus. Note guy, Saher. Focus on the note guy. Not this moron. I keep glancing at the clock, willing it to move faster so I can get out of here and head to the library. Come on, bell, ring already!
And then, finally—finally—the bell rings. A smile spreads across my face, and I'm practically bouncing in my seat. "At last," I mutter to myself.
As usual, before we can leave, we all have to line up by our houses. I stand with my Red House girls, doing my usual head count. It's my job as head of the house, after all. I watch the others do their counts too—house heads, not teachers—until the students start filing out of the school gates.
Once they're gone, we all turn back—because apparently, being a house head means we're also nannies—and do a round of the school. It's our duty to make sure no one left anything behind, like lost bags or shoes or... dignity.
I finally make my way toward the library after doing that endless head count and nannie-rounds. My heart's doing weird things again, thumping in a way that makes me feel... jittery? Excited? I don't even know. But it's because of that note. Whoever "Note Guy" is, he's got me wrapped up in this whole secret correspondence.
It's ridiculous.
As I step into the library, Maya ma'am gives me this distracted nod, like she thinks I'm just here to study, like always. Ha. If only she knew what's really on my mind. She's buried in her book as usual, and then, without even looking up, she says, "Don't miss lunch every day, child."
I freeze mid-step. Wait... Did she really send me that lunch yesterday? My heart skips a beat. No, no, no, Saher! Don't overthink this! Play it cool!
I swallow and, trying to act casual, I turn to her. "Uh, Ma'am, did you... send me lunch yesterday?"
She glances up, her face blank with confusion. "What lunch?"
Oh God. I panic internally, knowing I can't tell her about Pumpkin or his bhaiya or whatever ridiculous scenario they've dragged me into.
Great, Saher, now she thinks you've lost it.
I quickly backtrack. "O-Oh, um, never mind! Must've been Mahi pulling one of her pranks."
Maya ma'am just shrugs and goes back to her book. Phew. Crisis averted. I make my way deeper into the library, straight to the section with all the novels, where the mystery is waiting for me.
Please, please, please let him have written back...
But when I reach the spot where the book was tucked away—my heart sinks. What the... The book... it's gone.
What the hell?!
Panic flashes through me. I start pulling books off the shelves like a madwoman, trying to find it. No, no, no! This can't be happening! Someone must've issued it! But who? What if they found the note?! What if they read it? What if...
Suddenly, another wave of panic hits me. What if this isn't some cute secret book lover? What if it's some girl messing with me? Or worse, what if it's some old man who found my note and thinks this is some kind of—oh God, no!
I slump onto a bench, gripping a stack of Olympiad books. Oh my God, Saher. Calm down. I take a deep breath, trying to push away the ridiculous thoughts. But they keep creeping back in. What if the note isn't from some mysterious boy? What if I'm just making a fool of myself? And it's actually... ew, don't think about it.
I force myself to focus. No one knows it's you. You're safe. Relax. I take a deep breath, trying to force my brain to focus on something—anything—other than the missing book.
I dive into the textbook in front of me, hoping it'll distract me. Thirty minutes pass, and I've managed to finish a couple of pages, but as soon as I stretch my arms, my eyes drift back to that empty space on the shelf. Why am I so obsessed with this?!
And then... I freeze.
It's there.
The book is sitting right there where it was before, as if it had never left. My heart leaps into my throat. How... What... My legs move before my brain can catch up. I rush to the shelf, grab the book, and quickly glance around, half-expecting to see someone hiding behind the wall or a table. But no one's here. The tables are empty, and Maya ma'am is still engrossed in her book by the door.
Am I going crazy?
I flip through the pages, back to where I had left the note last time. My eyes widen—my note is gone. Completely erased. I flip back and forth in the pages, desperately searching for any trace of it.
Who would do this?!
But as I turn another page, I stop. There, folded into the corner of a random page, is a new note. My heart flutters with a weird mixture of anxiety and excitement. I pull it out and unfold it carefully.
"I never thought someone would reply to it. By the way, how's the book? Do you like it?"
A grin spreads across my face, and I can't help but feel this weird surge of triumph. He wrote back! My heart feels light, like I've just achieved something important. This is... fun? I reread the note several times, letting the excitement bubble up. I don't even care how ridiculous this is anymore.
It feels... special.
I keep the note in my notebook, flipping it over, and write today's date on the back. What are you doing, Saher? What even is this? But despite my confusion, I know I'm not going to stop.
I pull out a page from the back of my notebook—carefully tearing out a perfect square—and scribble my reply.
"I'm loving it. What about you?"
I smile at my own note, folding it neatly and slipping it back into the same spot in the book. This isn't bad, right? It's just harmless notes between us. We're just sharing our thoughts about the book. Nothing wrong with that...
Feeling strangely lighter, I tuck the book back into its place on the shelf and leave the library, making my way to the mess for lunch. My thoughts keep wandering back to the note. What will he say next? Will he reply again? The questions keep swirling in my head, and honestly... I can't wait to find out.
Ooo
Next day
Today's supposed to be the welcome ceremony for the new students. Well, they aren't exactly new anymore—it's been months since they joined. All the fifth graders and a few other students from our class who somehow passed the entrance exams and got in.
The welcome party had been delayed for ages, thanks to heavy rain and God-knows-what other issues. But now, it's finally happening tomorrow. I swear, sometimes I think the entire school hates the Red House. Why else would they always dump everything on us? Every. Single. Time.
Sir, please have some mercy.
After breakfast break, all of us from Red House were gathered on the ground. And of course, because the universe loves to torture me, I was stuck standing next to that idiot Rehaan. Today was one of those "special occasions" where girls and boys can actually talk without getting into trouble. Not that anyone actually follows the no-talking rule on regular days—everyone just does it in secret during class anyway.
As we stand there, I can feel the other houses glaring at us from the windows. I don't even need to look to know they're jealous. Suck it up, guys. We're skipping class; you're not.
I should be happy. This is free time for us, right? But no. My mind is somewhere else. My face must look so sad because all I can think about is the library. What if he sent another note, and I don't reply in time? What if he stops sending them altogether? I tell myself it doesn't matter, but a tiny voice inside whispers, It matters. It really, really matters.
And then the principal waddles in, his balloon belly leading the way. He always walks like he's got some kind of parade following him. He clears his throat and starts speaking. "There will be dances, singing, and some acts. You can add anything else if you want. But first, all new students must be introduced. The program should finish before dinner, so plan accordingly, Saher and Rehaan."
Saher and Rehaan.
The way he said our names together—ugh. I glance over at Rehaan, and to my horror, he's already looking at me. Our eyes lock for a split second before we both hurriedly look away. Why was he staring at me? Principal Sir is literally standing right here!
As soon as Principal Sir leaves, Verma Sir comes striding over. This man always looks so dashing. Seriously, what planet did he come from? I can't help but smile at him.
"Guys, I know you both hate each other," he says, as if it's some kind of joke, "but unfortunately, you share the same house. So bear with it and don't make me look bad in front of Sir, okay?" He plops himself down in a chair, probably waiting for us to screw something up.
Verma Sir is our housemaster, and normally, I'd say I'm lucky. Except for the fact that Rehaan is also the head boy.
Just my luck.
I glare at Rehaan, who frowns at me in return. "Any ideas?" he asks.
I plop down on the stage, trying to think, and of course, he sits beside me—but not too close. Thankfully.
"Kitne bacche hai?" I ask him, not bothering to look his way. (How many kids are there?)
He gives me this stupid shy smile before responding, "Abhi toh mai khud baccha hoon. Mere kaha se bacche honge?"
(Right now, I'm still a kid myself. Where would I get kids from?)
I swear, I could just punch him in the face. "Are you in your senses? I'm talking about the new students!"
With that same idiotic grin, he goes, "Devi mai sadharan manushya hoon, aapke jaisa chamatkari baba nahi hoon jo mujhe sab pata hoga. Veer bhaiya ko puch ke aata hoon."
(Goddess, I am a mere mortal, unlike you, oh magical sage. I don't have all the answers. Let me go ask Veer bhaiya!)
Without waiting for my response, he bolts, running off towards Veer bhaiya's class. Devi? Chamatkari baba? You are More like Dhongi baba. I roll my eyes, watching him beg for permission to enter Veer bhaiya's class. How on earth will I survive these days, God?
After what felt like ages, Rehaan came back with this annoyingly casual look on his face. "its total 49, ek aur student ko admission de dete fiffty ho jaate bichare ladke ka bhi bhala ho jaata kyu bhali i mean devi ji"
(It's 49 in total. We should admit one more student to round it up to fifty. Poor guy would've been happier too, right... bhali? I mean, Devi ji?)
Devi ji, again. Really?
I rolled my eyes. "Kon devi? jyada bole naa aap maine complain kar deni hai"
(Who devi? Keep talking like this, and I swear, I'll file a complaint against you.)
He blinked at me, completely stunned. "Aap?" He looked at me like I'd just insulted his ancestors. It's like he couldn't believe I used the formal aap for him. This is exactly why I hate Hindi-speaking days, especially when Rehaan is around. He always gets me all twisted up in these formalities.
"Jyada sir par mat chadhna." I coughed a little to hide my awkwardness. "Bachpan se aadat pad gayi toh digest karlo ab."
(Don't let it get to your head. You'll have to get used to it—been this way since childhood.)
He smiled that stupid smile again, his dimples deepening. "Ji, Devi ji."
For the first time, I actually noticed him properly. He's got fair skin, dark hair, and these warm, brown eyes. And those dimples—ugh, why does he have dimples?
God, I wish I had dimples too.
"Stop calling me that," I snapped, trying to focus on something—anything—else. "I swear, I'll complain about you."
"Aage se nahi bolunga, Devi ji." His teasing tone made me want to scream.
Oh my god, Saher, calm down. I took a deep breath, willing myself not to lose it completely. "So... we'll tell the new students to state their name, age, and what they want to be in the future. About the dance..."
"Will you perform?" he asked, out of nowhere, catching me off guard.
I glanced at him, surprised. "I don't know... I'll think about it if there's any time."
"Arre, bhot time hai. Sabse pehle tum hi jalwa dikhana." He grinned.
(Oh, there's plenty of time. You should be the first one to show off your talents.)
I narrowed my eyes at him. "Vaise, tum sara time aise hi ghode par sawar rehte ho?"
(By the way, do you always act like you're riding a high horse?)
He chuckled, leaning back a bit. "Vaise kuch dino se kisi ke sir par bhi sawar hoon."
(Actually, for the past few days, I've been in someone else's head.)
I shot up from my place, ready to smack him across the face, but he quickly added, "Arey, tumhari baat nahi kar raha!"
(Hey, I wasn't talking about you!)
I paused, sitting back down. If not me, then... who? The question burned in my mind. I couldn't help but ask, "Kiski baat kar rahe the?"
(Who were you talking about, then?)
He smiled, looking slightly curious, before saying, "Main doston se share karta hoon... Tum dost ho meri?"
(I share things with my friends... Are you my friend?)
His words hung in the air, and for a moment, I felt an odd silence settle between us. Friend? Am I his friend? I wasn't even sure what we were, aside from two people forced to work together because we're heads of the same house.
Before I could respond, Verma Sir interrupted, "Ho gaya?" He was clearly getting impatient with us.
(Is it done?)
"Five minutes, Sir. Abhi dete hain," Rehaan called back, and this time, we actually focused on the list.
(Five minutes, Sir. We'll give it now.)
No more jokes from him this time, thank God. But my mind wasn't fully here. It was back in the library, waiting... hoping for another note.
After handing over the list to Verma Sir, I noticed Rehaan lingering a little longer. He suddenly turned to Verma Sir, that usual casual confidence in his voice. "Sir, I have some work with Maya ma'am. I'll be back in ten minutes," he said smoothly.
Verma Sir barely glanced at him, giving a quick nod. He must've been relieved to finally be rid of us. "Fine, make it quick," he grumbled before walking off.
Rehaan grinned, like everything was always falling perfectly into place for him, and I couldn't help but roll my eyes at his easy-going attitude. Of course, he'd have some mysterious work with Maya ma'am. How convenient.
They must have an English class now, that's why he is asking him.
I turned and made my way back to class. When I stepped inside, the scene was quite the opposite of the hustle we had just gone through. It was Art period, and the room was filled with the hum of relaxed chatter and the soft scratch of pencils on paper. I found my bench and sat down, trying to settle into the calmness that everyone else seemed to be enjoying.
But my mind wasn't here. Not really. I could feel myself waiting for the bell to ring, waiting for something else entirely.
The library was still tugging at me—what if there was a note waiting?
At last, I'm able to write something! Hehe 🤡🤡
How's the chapter, guys??
Sometimes, I need a little motivation, so engage a bit with the reels. 🙂🙂 (kya fayda sunta toh koi hai nahi)
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